Everything is for acting
I am an entertainer...

I have seen you in darkness
like a moth that was going towards the fire...

You burned me with this winter in your heart
I am truly being burned...

The timbre of a crying dog burning in the...
unsettling like unknown...

London
caressing the bruised pelt of a perpetual wisdom...

Our expanding
only circles to reflect in the given radius...

Look
how inflated I am...

Blood are tender,
though the fangs of thorns are made of stainless...

When one cannot write
It is not writers block...

Come on baby what are you doing to me, thus to us?
I am a person not a commodity that you can replace...

In absolute darkness I saw you
like a shining object...

When I open the sill of your kisses
I arrive...